


Quantum Silver

by orphan_account



Category: Cars (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: I don't know what else I can say, M/M, it's a Cars!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 04:34:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/618121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You shouldn’t struggle, Mister Bond. You’ll ruin your stunning paint job. Hammerhead Silver, if I’m not mistaken?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quantum Silver

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why. I watched Cars 2 with my sister, and there were spies and they were in London and then this happened.
> 
> Now with art by the fabulous skyfall00silva: goo.gl/0wq1N

James Bond had always prided himself on his Aston heritage, but his superb off-road handling came from his mother’s side, God rest her chassis. 

She’d told him once, when he was very small and barely able to drive in a straight line, to never trust a car with a custom rebuild. It had been an ironic statement, given their family’s evident affluence, but it became reluctant advice to live by. 

So when the lift doors slide open to reveal a make and model he’s never seen before, all sleek lines and dangerous curves, he’s immediately on alert. 

It takes a great deal of will to completely remake your body inside and out. Oftentimes that will comes at the price of one’s sanity, and this certainly wouldn’t be the first villain he’s come across with a taste for the aftermarket.

Perhaps Sévérine was right to be terrified of this car.

He tests the strength of the boot the hideous green Citroen had slapped on his left rear tire and growls as the metal scrapes his undercarriage.

“You shouldn’t struggle, Mister Bond. You’ll ruin your stunning paint job. Hammerhead Silver, if I’m not mistaken?” 

“ _Quantum_  Silver.” Bond corrects smoothly, eyeing the viper emblem on the other car’s hood. “Mister…?”

“Silva, ironically enough.” The sports car laughs, sharp grille turning up in a smile. “I have to say, I was quite surprised to see she sent you, given your recent  _difficulties_.”

007 ignores the dig.

“Forgive me if I can’t place your name, though I do think I would remember a model such as yours.”

“Ah, you noticed.” His voice and expression are indulgent. “Aspid GT-21. Quite unique, I’m afraid. Not many like myself around. None, in fact.” 

Bond revs in affirmation and stores away the information for later. Aspid is a new brand, almost entirely concept and astonishingly low-emission. Far too new a company to have produced Silva’s original body style, which means he’s a market rebuild, but a rebuild nonetheless.

“Are you enjoying the island?” Silva rolls toward him easily, engine purring with untapped potential. “A bit hazardous, I think, but good for anonymity.”

“I don’t think you’re a car too concerned with anonymity, Mister Silva, given your trim.”

“True, true.” Silva sighs, the polished chrome of his wheel-well catching the sun and blinding Bond; he temporarily loses sight of the other car and Silva circles behind him. 

He nearly honks when he feels an all-weather tire trail lightly across his bumper, but he’s a professional and he keeps his composure, just as he was trained. When the sports car comes back around, he bears a completely innocent expression.

“You’ve taken great care of your body, but I wonder how hard this last year has been on you, really.”

Silva is pressed close, almost grille to grille, when James feels his hood click open. Silva jostles the insulation blanket and cool air rolls through Bond’s exposed frame. He can’t stop the shiver that follows.

“Oof. A cracked engine block. And they let you back into the field?” 

Silva drops the hood with a huff and Bond resists the urge to sneeze.

“I’m just that good, I suppose.” He says, eyes watering slightly. Silva just smiles, the angled grille far too menacing in the muted, dusty light.

“That remains to be seen, Mister Bond.”


End file.
